


Mages and Lovers

by RedLeatherErotica



Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:45:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7542043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeatherErotica/pseuds/RedLeatherErotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of three powerful mages and their lovers during the Dragon Age of Thedas. Temene Surana, the Grey Warden, Lene Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, and Aithne Trevelyan, the Inquisitor. Mostly canon to the DA games/book universe, with minor changes. Each short chapter will be from the title character's perspective. Sexual content, violence, etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Temene's Harrowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elven apprentice Temene Surana is awoken and thrust into an event that will change her life forever.

"Wake up, Apprentice Surana," a voice whispered harshly, shaking her shoulder.  
   
Temene had been in a deep sleep and woke up groggy and confused. When she opened her eyes she could only make out the vague silhouette of a templar standing over her bed. The heavy steel uniform was unmistakeable and sent a jolt of fear into her stomach. 

“What is going on?" Temene croaked, her voice caught in her chest. She could hear her bunkmate above her stirring, but she said nothing.  
   
"Get dressed and step out into the hallway," the templar snapped and walked away.

Temene sat up and pulled away the bed covers. It was cold in the dorms, so she quickly took a robe out of her dresser and slipped it over the light gown she slept in. Her mind was still not fully awake, so it took her a moment to get her arms through the sleeves. She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, but she could barely keep them open. Those apprentices that had awoken whispered as she dressed. The young women all knew where she was headed and some of them even whispered words of encouragement as Temene stumbled towards the doorway. Their words did little to reassure her and she felt her body begin to tremble with nervousness.  
   
When she stepped out of the female apprentices’ dorm, she was greeted by the bright light of a torch, held aloft by the same templar who'd awoken her. The sour-faced woman stood more than a head taller than the petite elf and looked none too pleased to be pulling midnight duty. 

Temene held up a hand to shield her tired eyes. Before she could even ask a question, the templar barked “Follow me," and immediately took off down the hall. The templar walked quickly ahead of her and Temene struggled to keep up. In her grogginess, she'd mistakenly put her boots on the wrong feet. She stumbled after the templar awkwardly as they made their way towards the Harrowing chamber.  
   
Temene had been expecting her Harrowing for weeks, and her entire life in the Circle had been leading up to this moment. She didn’t remember much of her life before the Circle Tower, and she could only guess where she’d come from. Her magic had manifested when she was very young and she had been taken to the tower shortly after. She tried not to think about the life she’d once had, since she was now forever bound to the Circle due to her magic.

She’d done relatively well in her studies and specialized in elemental magic, but had some limited skill in healing as well. She was quiet and stayed out of trouble and was occasionally teased for being too studious. Most of the other elves kept to themselves as well, so Temene had few friends.

The midnight halls of the tower were all but deserted, passing only a few templars on patrol before they reached the stairs to the Harrowing chamber. 

“What are you waiting for?” the templar asked as Temene stopped at the foot of the stairs.

“Sorry, I just wanted to fix these before,” Temene blushed and hurried to change her boots to the right feet. She felt foolish and hoped to fair better at her Harrowing than she did at dressing. Each step she climbed towards the Harrowing Chamber seemed to make her shake even more.


	2. Cullen's Hesitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Templar Cullen is called to attend a Harrowing. The apprentice being tested is not who he'd expected.

Cullen had guessed he would be attending a Harrowing when he'd seen the shift roster that morning. The rituals were held in the middle of the night, when few would notice if an apprentice left and never returned. The bodies of those who failed their tests were secreted away to the basement for burial and rarely spoken of again. He’d only been in attendance to two, one successful and one not. He still remembered the face of the young boy who’d been cut down by one of his comrades after he’d awoken possessed by a demon.

Cullen took a late supper and then headed upstairs to the Harrowing chamber. First Enchanter Irving was already inside, preparing the lyrium font for the ritual. 

“Good Evening First Enchanter,” Cullen croaked, his throat clenched with nervousness.

“I see they’ve sent a young one,” Irving looked him over. “Your first?”

“I have not attended many, but no, not my first,” Cullen replied.

“I see,” Irving nodded and went back to pouring lyrium slowly into the font. The smell was distinct and made the hair on Cullen’s neck bristle. He hated taking it, but it was a necessary tool to keep his abilities sharp. He was one of the youngest templars in the tower, only a few years older than the senior apprentices. He had a gentle nature and frequently had to be reminded that they were not his peers, but his charges. 

“Templar Cullen,” Knight-Commander Greagoir greeted him as he came up the stairs. “You are here first. That means you have the honor of striking the killing blow if our apprentice fails.”

“Yes, Knight-Commander,” Cullen answered. 

He didn’t think it was much of an honor, but nodded at his commander nonetheless. Irving cast a dour look their way, but said nothing. Cullen took his place beside the font and waited for the apprentice to arrive. His comrade climbed up the stairs shortly after, apprentice in tow. As soon as she appeared at the top of the stairs, his heart sank.

It was the elven mage he’d become infatuated with. He’d first seen her late one evening after curfew. She’d been reading in a hidden nook of the library and had lost track of time. When he’d found her she’d looked terrified, but he assured her he wouldn’t get her in trouble. He’d escorted her back to the dorms personally and found himself talking to her whenever he had the chance.

He tried not to stare, but her large elven eyes were hard to look away from. They were like pools of liquid lavender, so large that they made her look constantly sullen. Each time he looked into them his heart ached. He could see she was shaking slightly, but wasn't sure if she was nervous or cold. He felt a chill touch hit him at once, wondering if this was some sort of test. What if Greagoir knew of his infatuation and had purposely assigned him to this night’s Harrowing? The thought of having to kill her if she couldn’t resist the demon made him want to retch.

He listened quietly as Irving and Greagoir explained the ritual to her in detail. She nodded silently and approached the lyrium font, hesitating to touch the blue liquid. She finally took in a deep breath and dipped her small hand into the lyrium. She let out a quiet gasp and her body folded slowly to the floor.

He watched her limp body impatiently, hoping she would be able to resist the demon. Each moment that passed, the grip on his sword tightened. He didn’t know if he could do it. The thought of looking into those eyes as he cut her down was nearly unbearable. Suddenly she opened her eyes and let out a gasping breath. 

He thought for a moment that she was possessed and he felt the slickness of his hand on the pommel of his sword. He hesitated for a moment and then Irving knelt over her. 

“It is alright, it is over. Rest now, you have done well,” he reassured her as her eyes fluttered back to unconsciousness.

“You can return her to her room,” Greagoir ordered, turning away and heading downstairs. Cullen wondered if his commander had seen his hesitation and looked down at the floor in front of him shamefully.

“At least that one was quick for a change,” the other templar grumbled and turned to follow Greagoir out.

“Would you be so kind as to return her to her bed?” Irving looked at Cullen.

“Yes, of course,” Cullen stuttered. 

He knelt over her nervously and picked her up as gently as possible. He followed Irving out of the chamber and down the hall, where the old mage retired to his room. Cullen continued down the hall as fast as he could bear, wanting to get her out of his arms as soon as possible. Even through his armor he could feel the lithe curves of her body. Her soft pink lips were parted slightly, with soft breaths barely rising in her chest. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her and felt pangs deep in his stomach. He hurried ahead, trying not to look down at her.

The female dorm was dark besides a single glowstone shining in one of the bunks that was quickly extinguished when he entered. If any of the other apprentices were awake, they were doing a fine job pretending to be asleep. Cullen was ashamed to know exactly where she slept and carefully walked through the rows to her empty bed. He set her down gently and carefully covered her with the bedding left messily turned aside. She stirred a little and one of her hands fell across his face. It was soft and delicate and he let it remain for a moment before standing abruptly and leaving. He went straight to his quarters, praying silently to the Maker for guidance and strength.


	3. Temene the Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temene spends her first day in the Circle of Magi as a full-fledged mage.

Temene woke up feeling strange, with only a vague recollection of the previous night’s events. She remembered being in the Fade and fighting a demon, but little else besides that. She opened her eyes and saw her friend Jowan sitting on the bunk across from hers. 

“You’re finally awake!” he announced loudly.

“Not so loud,” she groaned, her head aching from the lyrium. “What time is it?”

“It’s well past breakfast. The templars said you could sleep in since you passed your Harrowing. A Tranquil already took your belongings upstairs to the mages’ quarters.”

“How did I get back downstairs?” she wondered, climbing out of bed tentatively.

“I think it was that templar with the wavy blonde hair. What is his name? Curtis? Calvin?”

“Cullen?” Temene perked up.

“Yes, I think that’s what I heard the other girls say. They kept laughing about something else. Something about always polishing his sword of mercy?”

“Oh,” Temene blushed. 

“The First Enchanter wanted to see you as soon as you woke up.”

“Did he say why?”

“No. He was talking to a dark-skinned man with a beard when he asked me. He seemed distracted.”

“I should go then,” Temene got up from the bed, smoothing down the braided buns she always wore.

“Perhaps you could ask Irving about my Harrowing when you see him?” Jowan added hesitantly. “I should have had mine months ago.”

“It isn’t a race,” Temene chastised him. “They’ll test you when they think you are ready and you’ve been neglecting your studies lately. In fact, you’re skipping rune divination as we speak.”

“I think they just don’t want to test me,” Jowan moaned.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would they be singling you out? Just keep practicing and tell that mysterious girlfriend of yours to let you study once in a while.”

She walked away before he could say another word. In the past few months, he’d been prone to blaming everyone but himself for his woes. Every time he complained about still being an apprentice, she had to remind him that he was hardly ever studying. They had been friends for a long time, but ever since he’d begun seeing his mysterious lover, they’d grown apart. She’d heard rumors that he was practicing blood magic, but hoped it was only a cover for him sneaking off for secret trysts.

She made her way through the halls towards Irving’s study, passing Cullen in the process. As soon as he made eye contact with her, he looked away, but she couldn’t help but notice the smile that had flashed across his face. She fancied him quite a bit, but neither of them was bold enough to initiate an ilicit relationship. They happened occasionally in the tower, but both the templar and mage were always severely punished. 

As she approached Irving’s study, she heard the raised voice of Knight-Commander Greagoir inside, so she hesitated near the doorway. 

“Absolutely not,” she overheard Greagoir shout, before she spotted a templar coming down the hall. She didn’t want to be accused of eavesdropping and stepped inside the study. Irving was standing next to a dark-skinned man, who seemed to be keeping the peace between the templar and the first enchanter. All three men looked at her when she entered.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but Jowan mentioned you wanted to see me,” Temene said meekly.

“Yes, of course, come in,” Irving replied.

“We will finish our discussion later,” Greagoir cast an angry look at both men and then Temene, before walking out without another word.

“Warden Commander Duncan, this is Temene Surana, the newest mage in the Circle Tower,” Irving introduced her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Surana,” Duncan nodded. 

“A pleasure as well. I can come back later if you are occupied,” Temene asked.

“No, Greagoir is just having one of his fits, as he does,” Irving chucked to himself. “I have a few things to give to you,” he turned towards a cabinet near his desk. 

He pulled out a gnarled wood staff and a pile of yellow mages robes. 

“These are the trappings of a full fledged mage of the Circle of Magi. They are your reward for your years of hard work.”

The robes he handed her were made of fine brushed cotton and damask, a stark contrast to the scratchy cotton robes she’d been wearing as an apprentice. “Feel free to rest for the remainder of the day, most mages find the Harrowing quite exhausting,” Irving continued. “Your new quarters are right next to the guest wing, would you kindly show Duncan where they are?”

“Of course,” Temene nodded, folding her new robes under her arm.

Duncan followed her out as she headed towards the guest wing. She wondered what a Grey Warden was doing in the tower, but said nothing. Duncan seemed to read her thoughts and asked “Do you know much about the Grey Wardens?”

“I only know they kill darkspawn and end Blights,” she replied.

“There isn’t much more to us then that,” he laughed. 

“Is there really going to be another Blight? I heard some of the senior enchanters joined the king’s army.”

“I do not know for certain, but I am trying to gather as many resources as I can. We haven’t seen a darkspawn horde this large for a long time.”

“I hope you can defeat them,” Temene stopped at the doors to the guest wing. 

Duncan nodded a thank you and excused himself. She found her new room down the hall and began putting away the few possessions the Tranquil had brought upstairs. She read in bed for most of the day before taking an early supper. She was still tired from her Harrowing and went to bed after having a long bath. It was a small comfort to now have a semi-private room with a larger bed. She stretched out her small frame and happily went to sleep, her mind drifting to fancies that would never happen.


	4. Jowan's Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jowan discovers some shocking news when he visits his lover in secret.

Jowan hurried to the Chantry after supper, anxious to see Lily. She’d slipped him a note during lunch and he was eager to hear what news she had. The Chantry was mostly deserted after evening prayers, so no one saw him slip into the tiny prayer nook they always frequented. 

“Jowan,” she embraced him and kissed him long and deep.

“Is everything alright, you look worried?” he asked her.

“I was in Irving’s study earlier,” she lowered her eyes and squeezed his hand tightly. “I was helping him move some books and I saw a sheet of paper on his desk. They are going to make you Tranquil!”

“What? That can’t be. I haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“I know that, but I saw it with my own eyes. Both Irving and Greagoir had signed it. We don’t have much time.”

She tried to hold her tears, but they came pouring down her cheeks. Jowan held her tightly against his chest, gently stroking her back.

“What are we going to do? I can’t bear to be without you. There will be nothing left of me once they make me Tranquil.”

“Our only hope is to escape the tower. Go somewhere that we can be together,” her voice muffled in his chest.

“But the templars would track us down right away with my phylactery.”

“There has to be a way for us to destroy it? I’ve been down there before, I’ve seen them open the door. We’d just need a mage to open it for us,” she looked up at him, her reddened eyes wide with desperation.

“But who? I don’t have anyone I can trust to do that!”

“Your friend just passed her Harrowing, didn’t see?”

“Temene? I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to get her in trouble.”

“There’s no one else we can trust.”

“I, I suppose we could ask her,” he bowed his head in defeat, knowing there was little else they could do. The idea of being made Tranquil was as terrible as his feelings for Lily being completely erased.

“We don’t have any time to spare. They could perform the ritual tonight now that the order has been signed,” she squeezed his hand tightly.

“I’ll go right now and ask her. Can you get into the kitchens and get us some supplies? If we have to leave in a hurry, we should be prepared.”

“Good idea,” she pulled him closed and kissed him.

They went their seperate ways and Jowan headed towards the mage’s quarters. He saw the templar, Cullen further down the hall, and tried to duck into a corner, but was easily spotted. “Apprentice, what are you doing up here? It is nearly curfew,” Cullen asked.

“I, uh, was looking for my friend, Temene,” Jowan stuttered.

“Temene?” Cullen blushed. “Her room is down the hall.”

“I promise I will only be a moment,” Jowan pleaded. “I just have to give her something.”

“Alright,” the templar’s face softened. “Then hurry downstairs.”

Jowan nodded and slipped into Temene’s room quickly, noticing the lamp on her bedside table was extinguished. Temene was asleep and he hesitated to wake her. He quietly cleared his throat, but she did not awaken, so he gently shook her shoulder. 

“What now?” she awoke with a start, worried she had some other test to pass.

“It is just me,” Jowan said lowly, trying not disturb the other two mages Temene shared a suite with.

“What do you want?” Temene asked, slightly annoyed at being awoken from a very lovely dream she was having about a certain templar.

“I have to ask you something. It is very serious. Can you meet me in the Chantry?”

“No, you can you ask me here. I’m not even dressed.”

“It, it’s about my Harrowing, or lack there of,” he whispered. “Lily, the girl I’ve been seeing, she says they are going to make me Tranquil.”

“Lily? The Chantry initiate?”

“Yes, that’s why I’ve been keeping it a secret. She saw some paperwork on Irving’s desk. They are going to make me Tranquil any day now!”

“You just need to talk to them, assure them that you’re ready.”

“No, that won’t work. I’m sure they’ve been plotting this for a while.”

“Jowan,” Temene sighed. “I don’t know what else you expect me to say. If the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander have decided, there’s nothing either one of us can do. If you’d just talk to them…”

“They won’t listen,” Jowan insisted. “Lily and I are going to escape, but I need to destroy my phylactery first and I need your help.”

“Have you gone mad?” all the color left Temene’s face.

“I don’t want to be without Lily. I’d rather die than be made Tranquil.”

“They’ll probably kill you anyway if they catch you trying to escape or lock you in a dungeon for a year like they did to that Anderfels boy. Why don’t you talk to Irving, ask him why they’ve made this decision?”

“They…they think I’ve been practicing blood magic!”

“Have you?”

“Of course not. If anyone has seen me sneaking around, it’s because I’ve been seeing Lily.”

“Then explain that to them.”

“I can’t. If they find out she’s been consorting with an apprentice, they’ll send her away. It’s not fair.”

“Our life isn’t fair, Jowan,” Temene sighed bitterly. “Other people get to decide what kind of lives we lead. We don’t get the luxury of loving other people.”

“So you won’t help me?”

“I’ll help you talk to Irving in the morning, but I won’t help you escape.”

“Alright then,” he turned away, defeated.

“Just go to bed, Jowan. We’ll talk to Irving in the morning. He’ll figure out a way to help you. I promise.”

He nodded and walked out of her room without another word. He slipped back through the halls carefully, avoiding any templars he heard along the way. He found Lily waiting for him anxiously. 

“We’re on our own,” he said sadly.


	5. Temene's Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temene's decision comes back to haunt her quickly.

Temene was awoken again by the sound of templar armor echoing down the halls. When she opened her eyes, she heard shouting further away. She and the other two mages in her suite got up and peeked out the doorway, curious about the commotion. When one of the enchanters ran down the hall, they shouted an inquiry. 

“An apprentice has escaped. He killed two templars in the process,” the enchanter replied before running off.

“Jowan!” Temene bolted down the hall in her nightgown, her stomach twisting in a thousand knots. She didn’t care that she wasn’t supposed to be in the hallway, and ran until her feet ached from the cold stone floor.

She found a small crowd standing over the bodies of two templars near the basement steps. Lily, Jowan’s secret lover, was huddled alone in a corner, her head buried in her hands. 

“No,” Temene nearly collapsed, barely able to steady herself on a nearby wall.

“What are doing here? You should be in bed,” Greagoir turned angrily towards her.

“Temene, are you alright?” Irving ran to steady her.

“I told him to talk to you, he knew about…” she managed before her legs gave out and she folded to ground. The cold stone floor bit at her skin through her light nightgown, but she didn’t care.

“Talk to me about what?” Irving asked, Greagoir’s interest also piqued.

“About his Rite of Tranquility. And about Lily. I told him he’d end up getting someone hurt if he tried to escape.”

“You knew about the escape?” Greagoir questioned her.

“I didn’t think he’d…” Temene swallowed her words, trying to fight off tears.

“I knew Lily had found out about the Rite,” Irving tried to defend Temene. “And about her secret affair with the apprentice, but I didn’t think he would go this far.”

“What? Why didn’t you help him? Talk to him?” Temene looked up at Irving as tears flowed down her cheeks.

“I had to be certain if Lily was complicit in their relationship or an unwilling pawn of blood magic.”

“I never knew anything about any blood magic,” Lily finally cried from the corner, her eyes swollen with tears. “He had me completely fooled…I loved him so much.”

A templar and the enchanter Temene had seen running down the hall appeared from the basement, holding a gnarled wood staff. “The apprentice’s phylactery was destroyed,” the templar announced. “They must have used this to get into the repository,” he handed the staff to Greagoir.

“It appears to be engraved with your name, Lady Surana,” Greagoir growled. 

“He must have taken it from my room,” Temene closed her eyes. She felt her whole world spinning out of control and wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else.

“Return Lady Surana to her quarters and keep watch outside her door. We will figure out her punishment in the morning. We have an apostate without a phylactery to catch,” Greagoir barked to the nearest templar, who happened to be Cullen. He helped her up and escorted her down the hallway.

“All you alright?” he asked, noticing her shaking.

“No,” she stopped in front of him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. His heavy steel armor pressed deeply into her skin. “This is all my fault,” she began crying again. 

Every muscle in his body wanted to hold her tightly, to comfort her, but he knew his duty would not allow it. He stood there stiffly, trying to add some reassurance by patting her on the back. 

“Why do we have to live like this?” she looked up at him, her lavender eyes rimmed in red.

“I,” he looked down at her, unable to resist comforting her. He wiped a tear from her cheek. It slid along her neck and rested on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.” 

He stared down at her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her and assure her nothing was her fault. His heart pounded so hard in his chest, he was surprised it did not thud against his armor.

“I should take you to bed,” he finally said, blushing as the words left his tongue. “I mean, Greagoir wanted you returned to your room.”

“Of course,” she closed her eyes, forcing more tears to spill down her cheeks. She spun around and hurried towards to her room. Before she could close the door, he stopped her.

“Temene, I,” he paused, looking down at her sadly. “Everything will be alright. I promise you.”

“I hope so,” she tried to smile and softly closed the door.

She buried herself in her bedcovers, but knew she wouldn’t sleep. It seemed everything in her life was changing at a dramatic pace and it felt like she could barely breathe. She was awake for some time, before finally drifting off, her mind trying to work out what would come in the morning.


	6. Duncan's Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan reminisces about his past and then decides to intervene and gain a new recruit for the Wardens.

Duncan heard the commotion in the halls, but thought it best not to interfere with Circle business. He was after all, a guest, and an unwelcome one in the eyes of Knight Commander Greagoir. The dreams he had at night told him that a Blight was coming, so he ignored the templar’s inhospitality.  
He needed more recruits for the Wardens and more mages to join the king’s army.

Lying awake in his guest room, he reminisced about the first time he’d come to the Circle Tower. He was much younger then and more apt to thievery. He remembered being caught by the young mage while slipping out of the First Enchanter’s room and how she’d taken him to bed instead of turning him in. He still remembered the look on Commander Genevieve’s face when she found him in said bed. He’d been thinking more about those days since conscripting Alistair. The father and sons bore a striking resemblance to one other, even if age and the weight of the crown had given Maric the look of a much older man. 

Duncan finally fell asleep, but the humming dreams of the darkspawn kept him from sleeping restfully. They had started months ago, well before the darkspawn horde had gathered in the Korcari Wilds. He knew he would die trying to end the Blight or take his Calling afterward, just as all those before him had done.

He slept as much as he could and then got up to look through the recommendations Irving had given him. The first enchanter couldn’t guarantee new recruits, but he would try his best. The elven mage who had just passed her Harrowing seemed to have the most promise, but Duncan thought perhaps she was too shy to be a Warden. Fiona had always been quiet, but she was bold in action. He wondered in silence if it was a common elven trait.

After finishing with the paperwork, he took a quick breakfast and then went to Irving’s study. Duncan needed to get back in Ostagar and would be leaving in the morning, with or without new recruits. He found Irving arguing with Greagoir once again and hovered in the doorway. 

“She knew about the escape and said nothing,” Greagoir furrowed his brow. “And now two templars are dead! She needs to be punished.”

“I too made a misjudgment on Jowan’s behalf,” Irving replied in an even tone. The first enchanter never seemed to get riled up by Greagoir’s anger. “Cast some of the blame with me if you must, but do not put it all on Temene.”

“You are too easy on your students, Irving. She should be imprisoned for a time, just in case she was in coercion with the blood mage,” Greagoir frowned when he saw Duncan. Irving was more receptive and offered him a chair.

“Duncan, I am afraid circumstances haven’t allowed us time this morning to discuss aid for the king’s army,” Irving apologized.

“I understand. It sounds as if you had a difficult night,” Duncan replied.

“It is none of your concern,” Greagoir added.

“From what Irving has told me, this mage, Temene, shows a lot of promise. It would be a shame for her to rot in a dungeon. She could be a great asset to the Wardens,” Duncan suggested.

“And if she was a blood mage, she could summon demons that could tear the Wardens apart,” Greagoir scoffed.

“I could conscript her if I wished,” Duncan finally challenged him, tired of the templar’s attitude. “But I’d like to avoid that if possible.”

“Take her if you wish, but she will be your responsibility. And you will have no more enchanters,” Greagoir threw up his hands. “We can spare no more.”

“Very well,” Duncan nodded.

He left Irving’s study and eventually found Temene in the library, sitting alone. “Are you alright?” he asked, sitting down next to her. “I heard what happened last night.”

“I’m trying not to think about it,” she replied with little expression on her face. “Everyone failed Jowan. Especially me.”

“I don’t think you failed your friend. Did you force him to commit blood magic? To kill?” Duncan tried to reassure her. 

“No. But I…” she began before Duncan cut her off.

“Your friend is responsible for his own actions. You cannot blame yourself for what others do.”

“Well, either way it still got me in trouble. I’m sure Greagoir is just waiting to throw away the key.”

“Actually, instead of punishing you, Knight Commander Greagoir has released you into my custody. I know the situation may not be ideal, but I think you will do well in the Wardens.”

“Are you serious?” the lifeless expression on her face finally changed.

“I came here searching for recruits and Irving recommended you highly. He said your skill in redirecting magic might be useful against darkspawn magic.”

“Darkspawn can do magic?”

“The emissaries can. They are some of the most formidable foes that we encounter.”

“But I’ve never even fought before, or used my magic against something else.”

“Most of my recruits have never fought either, but they manage. It beats the alternative of imprisonment.”

“Imprisonment?”

“The Knight Commander was wary that you were also a blood mage and wanted to imprison you for a time.”

“He couldn’t possibly believe I would practice blood magic?”

“That is only what I overheard.”

She sat quiet again for a moment, before finally saying “alright, when do we leave?”


	7. Temene's Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temene prepares to leave the Circle Tower and join the Grey Wardens.

As Temene stared out at the dark world beyond the tiny windows in the library, she could see the faint glow of torches meandering across the lake. Greagoir still had templars out searching for any signs of Jowan. She wondered if he’d made it across the lake or had drowned like so many other ill fated escapees. As she tried to move her mind from Jowan’s fate, she heard the familiar sound of templar boots clanking against the stone floors behind her. The sound still filled her with apprehension and she would not miss it when she was gone. She turned from the window and saw Cullen approaching.   
  
“Ser Cullen,” she nodded at him when their eyes met.  
  
“Sorry, I did not know anyone was still up here. It is past curfew and they don’t want anyone out of their rooms,” he replied.  
  
“Technically I am a Grey Warden now, I don’t think they have curfews,” she tried to joke, knowing he was the only templar she could have a rapport with. She had been thinking about him all day, wondering how she would tell him goodbye.  
  
“Fair enough,” he smiled shyly. “But don’t you want to get plenty of rest for your journey?”  
  
“I suppose so, but I couldn’t sleep if I tried. How far is it to Ostagar? It is hard to gauge distances on a map when you’ve been confined to an island most of your life.”  
  
“Yes, I imagine it would be. Ostagar is far to the south of here, it will take you a week or more to get there.”  
  
“Have you ever been that far south?”  
  
“I grew up in Honnleath, which is further south, but not as close to the Korcari Wilds.”  
  
“That’s why the king wants to stop the darkspawn horde at Ostagar, to keep them from reaching any settlements?”  
  
“I would assume so. They spread disease wherever they go.”  
  
“Have you ever seen one?”  
  
“No, they’re very rarely spotted outside the Deep Roads.”  
  
“The old dwarven tunnels?”  
  
“Yes, there were some that ran undereath Honnleath, but they collapsed a long time ago.”  
  
“I’m sorry to be asking you so much, it’s just that, well you’re the only friend I have that hasn’t betrayed my trust.”  
  
“Friend? Oh,” he blushed and turned his eyes away from her. She could see that she had made him uncomfortable.  
  
“Well…you are right, of course, I should get some rest,” she stammered, hoping to alleviate the awkwardness in the air. “Goodnight.”  
  
"Take care, Temene and," he paused for a moment, meeting her eyes again.  “Maker watch over you in your travels.”  
  
“Thank you,” she replied and excused herself.   
  
She felt like an idiot, babbling to him like she knew nothing. She wished she had thanked him for his kindness or told him that she cared for him instead of making a fool of herself. Nearly lost in her daydreams about him, she realized she was still holding one of the library’s books in her hand. She didn’t want to leave it in her room and turned around to replace it.  
  
As she neared the doors, she saw Cullen knelt in prayer. She did not enter, but could not help but overhear as his soft voice trembled.   
  
“Bless you Maker for answering my prayers. She has been consuming my thoughts for so long, I could barely contain my feelings for her.  I am so utterly ashamed and beg your forgiveness. I promise to remain vigilant and ever watchful, that I might never stray again.”  
  
Temene felt her throat tighten and she managed to run down the hall before a sob escaped from her lips. _What a fool I was, harboring such fantasies about him, when I was only making him feel ashamed,_ he chastised herself as tears streamed down her face. She ran to her room and nearly tripped over the small pile of possessions that the Tranquil had packed up for her. She crawled into bed and buried her face in the covers, glad to be leaving the tower forever.   
  



	8. Temene's Overwhelming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temene ventures outside the Circle Tower for the first time in many years, and it's not what she expected.

It felt like Temene had only been asleep for a moment before she was awoken by Duncan softly shaking her shoulder. 

“I am sorry to wake you, but we should set off soon. It will be a long ride to Ostagar."

"Yes, of course," Temene sat up, rubbing her eyes.

She followed Duncan downstairs to the ground floor of the tower where extras templars had been posted at the outer doors. They pulled them opening slowly, exposing the dank air from the dock beyond. A boat was waiting for them and they shoved off without delay. The boat moved slowly across the lake, but the gentle rocking made Temene feel slightly nauseous. She tried to close her eyes, but the rocking made her feel even more nauseous.

She opened her eyes and looked up, seeing nothing but endless grey sky above her. She felt an instant panic and when she looked down into the water below, she saw nothing but black water. Her head spun and she could feel bile at the back of her throat. She gripped the side of the boat for support, but felt herself falling into darkness.

She awoke on the ground, with Duncan and the boatman, Kester, kneeling over her. She looked around and could see they had reached the shore. 

“How do you feel? Are you well?“ Duncan asked.

"We almost lost you. You nearly fell into the water when you passed out,” Kester added.

“What happened?” Temene asked, still slightly confused.

“You fainted as we were going across the lake,” Duncan replied.

"Do you want to take her inside?" another man standing in a doorway asked. He was the proprietor of the inn on the shore.

“Do you feel well enough to stand?” Duncan asked.

“I think so,” Temene replied. Duncan helped her inside and sat her down at a small table. 

“I sometimes forget how overwhelming the world can seem to someone who has not been outside for many years,” Duncan said as he sat down across from her.

“I feel so foolish,” Temene blushed and lowered her head. She couldn’t imagine what Duncan thought of her and wondered if he’d take her back across the lake for being utterly useless.

“I’ve recruited dwarves that reacted much the same way,” Duncan tried to laugh. “It just takes a period of adjustment. You will be fine in a few days.”

Temene felt slightly relieved, but still humiliated. Duncan ordered her a spicy, cold beverage that seemed to soothe her stomach and then went outside to pack up the horses he’d borrowed from the king’s stable. 

“I’ve never ridden,” Temene looked nervously through the window as they prepared to leave. “Will I fall off?”

“Just hold on tightly and you will be fine, the Imperial Highway will be a smooth ride,” he reassured her.

He gave her a warm cloak to wear, but it was too long for her small frame and dragged along the ground. She felt like a small child again, coddled and in clothes too big for her. She tried to keep her eyes down as she walked outside, picturing the world as the safe, confined spaced she’d lived in most of her life. The horses stirred slightly at the crack of a nearby tree limb, which in turn frightened her. She closed her eyes again and balled her fists tightly, telling herself to be brave. Duncan helped her up onto the smaller of the two horses and adjusted to stirrups so she would be secure.

She felt awkward atop the large beast, but Duncan did not drive the horses hard until they reached the main highway and she’d gotten a feel of the reins. She barely peeked beyond the hood pulled over her eyes, usually only when Duncan pointed out a landmark or spoke to her. They only rode for part of the day and stopped at a small village where Duncan dispatched a message to Ostagar. He did not want to overwhelm her with too long of a journey on the first day, so they stayed at the tiny inn that doubled as a raucous tavern. Thankfully Temene was too exhausted to mind the noise and slept through most of the night.


	9. Temene's Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temene and Duncan arrive at Ostagar and meet the rest of the Grey Warden recruits.

Temene and Duncan continued on at first light, riding until they reached the village of Lothering. The inn in Lothering was only slightly less raucous than the previous one. The young bar maid was very kind to them, even after finding out Temene was from the Circle Tower. She was very curious about what life was like in the tower and asked Temene a lot of questions. Temene thought she sensed something arcane about the woman, but said nothing.

They slept well in the cozy inn and set off again in the morning, riding hard towards Ostagar. Temene lost track of the days as they blurred together into riding, resting, and riding again. The imposing towers of the ancient fortress finally loomed over the horizon and Temene felt a slight sense of relief. If she never rode another horse, her thighs would be forever grateful to her. They reached the gates as the sun was going down and left the horses with the royal stablehand. Temene had just returned from relieving herself in a less than pristine privy, when she saw a handsome man in shinning gold armor talking to Duncan. She was hesitant to approach, but Duncan motioned for her to come over.

He introduced her to King Cailan and she was instantly mortified. She knew her hair was a mess and her cloak was caked in mud from dragging on the ground. She tried her best to seem intelligent and worldly, so she said very little. When the king excused himself, Duncan told her to have a look around camp and find one of the other Wardens named Alistair. She still felt slightly overwhelmed by the open camp and wandered around tentatively. She felt very out of place and more than once was mistaken for a servant. 

Duncan’s description of Alistair as a flaxen-haired man in armor was of little help, as there were many flaxen-haired men in armor. She finally spied a tall man with a Grey Warden shield strapped to his back and hoped she had finally found him. He was talking to a mage who looked incredibly annoyed, so she waited for the mage to storm off before approaching him. 

"Excuse me, are you Alistair?" Temene asked.

“Guilty as charged,” he turned towards her with a charming smile. His mouth hung open as he looked at her, clearly not who he was expecting.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Temene replied, trying to not to blush as he looked down at her. He was just as handsome as the king, even if he was not as nicely armored.

“Oh? Really?” he shuffled his feet nervously, his face reddening. “I hope you're not the girl Daveth was trying to set me up with. I told him I wasn't interested in your, uh, services, no offense. I am sure you are very good at what you do and you are incredibly beautiful…”

"What?" Temene wondered, her expression bearing confusion. 

“You aren’t that…uh,” he stammered.

“Do you think I am some sort of courtesan?”

 

"No, of course not. You must be uh-“

"I am Temene, the Grey Warden recruit.”

"Yes, of course. The uh, mage. I'm sorry, I just pictured you as a feeble old man with a beard,” Alistair tried to joke. "Duncan sent a letter. I wished he'd mentioned that you were a woman."

"Does that matter?" Temene questioned.

"No, not at all, I, uh, it just might have stopped me from putting my foot in my mouth. I think I’m up to the knee actually,” he laughed nervously.

“You are very strange,” she frowned at him.

"Not the first time I have heard that, believe me. Oh, thank the Maker, Ser Jory!” Alistair waved another man over, breathing a sigh of relief. "Ser Jory, this is our last recruit, Temene."

"It is a pleasure to meet you my lady," Jory bowed his head slightly.

“The same to you," Temene nodded.

"Well, let's find Duncan," Alistair suggested, wanting to move away from their awkward conversation as soon as possible.

Alistair led them to the large Grey Warden tent, where another man named Daveth sat at the fire. He tried a few pick up lines on Temene while they waited for Duncan to return, but her scowls deterred him from getting any more vulgar. When Duncan finally returned, he relayed their plans for the next morning. Alistair would be leading them into the wilds to hunt for darkspawn blood and a cache of Grey Warden treaties. Temene was still not comfortable outdoors, so the idea of going off into the wild was all the more terrifying.

 

Her worry and Ser Jory’s snoring kept her awake longer than the others, but she eventually fell asleep from pure exhaustion. Her camp bed was not as comfortable as a regular bed, but Alistair had given her another blanket as a peace offering for his earlier miscalculation as to her identity.


	10. Alistair Into the Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair leads the Grey Warden recruits into the Korcari Wilds to hunt for Darkspawn blood.

Alistair woke up before dawn, his stomach in painful knots. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was perhaps more nervous than the recruits. It was his first time leading a party and he was filled with doubt about his abilities. He checked his shield and armor for holes and then went about sharpening his sword. The sound seemed to awaken everyone else, Temene the last to stumble out of the tent bleary-eyed.

“Here, sit,” he offered her the smooth stump he was sitting on after she’d ladled out some breakfast for herself. 

He felt too nervous to eat, especially now that she was awake. When he looked at her, he felt an excited little tickle in his stomach, and something deeper, hidden away in the loins. The Chantry had tried its best to stifle those feelings, but now that he was a Warden, they’d come rushing back. The stories the other wardens told around the fire had sent his imagination running wild. 

“Almost ready to head out,” Duncan clapped him on the shoulder, startling him.

“Yes, I think so,” Alistair squeaked.

“I have every confidence in you,” Duncan smiled, seeing where Alistair’s eyes lingered. “Just don’t get distracted.”

“Of course not,” Alistair gaped as Temene licked a wayward bit of honey off her spoon.

After everyone had finished breakfast, Alistair led them towards the south gates that led to the wilds. The morning light was dimmed by a thick layer of clouds and Alistair hoped they wouldn’t get rained on.

"Has anyone else fought darkspawn before?" Jory asked nervously as they passed under the portcullis.

"Not my area of specialty,” Daveth replied, looking over at Temene.

“No,” Temene shook her head.

"Don't worry. They die like anything else. Just keep your wits about you," Alistair tried to reassure them. 

They headed out across the rolling hills towards the southeastern lands, where the ancient Grey Warden outpost was located. A fetid odor began to swirl through the wind as they continued on and worsened each step that they took. 

"What is that smell?" Jory asked, scrunching his nose. 

“It smells like death,” Daveth replied.

Continuing on, they soon traced the smell to the remnants of a fight, blood and corpses littering the ground. 

“They must have been scouts from the army,” Daveth looked down at the Ferelden crests on their hauberks.

“What killed them?” Jory asked nervously.

“Darkspawn,” Alistair replied, seeing the telltale signs of corruption on the body. 

Temene covered her mouth, running to a nearby bush, ready to retch. The sight of the mangled bodies was too much for her. As she bent over to vomit up her breakfast, she heard a low voice croak from the underbrush. She shrieked slightly and nearly ran into Alistair as he rushed heroically to her side. 

“Are you alright? What’s the matter?” he asked.

“There’s someone alive under there,” she tried to keep herself from vomiting on him.

“Who goes there? What happened here?” Alistair asked, pushing the bush aside.

The man hidden underneath was badly bloodied and pale. ”My scouting party was attacked by darkspawn. I managed to crawl in here as they were hanging the bodies. It was horrible. The horde is closer than expected.”

“He’s badly wounded,” Daveth noted as he and Jory helped him from the bush.

"Here, allow me,” Temene tried to compose herself. 

She knelt and laid her hands close to the wound on the man’s side. White healing wisps emanated from her palms and knitted the man’s flesh back together. 

“That will staunch the bleeding, at least. I should have a draught to manage the pain,” she reached into the small pouch on her belt.

"Maker bless you," the man tried to smile.

“We’ll help you back to camp,” Alistair insisted as the man managed to his feet.

“No, it is not far. You’re Wardens, I know you have business elsewhere.”

Daveth and Jory helped the man back to the path, while Alistair looked ahead, searching for any signs of darkspawn. He could sense them somewhere, but was unable to pinpoint their location. Temene sat on her heels, looking paler than she had been previous. 

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked, kneeling next to her. “You saved that man’s life.”

“I’m just not used to anything like this,” she shook her head.

“How about some water?” he held his water skin towards her.

“Thank you,” she smiled and took a small drink from it.

He helped her up and they continued on when Jory and Daveth returned. It was not long before they came upon a small pack of darkspawn. Before they could even engage them, Temene knocked them down with an enormous fireball from her staff. 

“Was that too much?” she asked, looking nervously at Alistair.

“No, that was perfect,” he grinned. “But it will be hard to get blood out of them. We’ll handle the next batch.”

It wasn’t long before they found another pack of stragglers that were easily cut down by the three warriors. Alistair collected enough blood from the bodies to fill three vials and stored them in his small pack.

“Did you expect this many?” Daveth asked, after they had killed yet another pack of wandering darkspawn.

“Not really, but we should be fine,” Alistair lied. He may have been a newest warden, but he could still sense the horde growing closer and wanted to return to Duncan as soon as possible.

They walked through the late afternoon, until the ruined Grey Warden tower came into view. The foundation was intact, but the rest of the tower was little more than piles of stones. It looked to Alistair that their search would be fruitless.

“Looking for something,” a voice called from above them as they dug around a pile of rubble.

“Wha-?” Alistair wiped sweat from his brow.

“Huh, a Witch of the Wilds,” Jory squeaked as feather-clad woman appeared above them.

“Who are you, what are you doing in this tower?” Alistair tried his best to sound authoritative.

“Tis a tower no longer,” the dark-haired woman smiled, looking them over. “And who I am is not your concern. I imagine your concern is for the Grey Warden treaties that were left here long ago.”

“Where have you taken them?” Alistair demanded.

“I took them nowhere,” the woman smirked. “Twas my mother that took them. The magic that protected them wore off long ago and she was kind enough not to let them fall into the wrong hands.”

“Then you must take us to your mother so we can retrieve them.”

“No! They’re witches. I don’t want to go anywhere with them! They’ll turn us into toads!” Jory protested quietly.

“Shut up, Jory,” Daveth chastised him.

“You are awfully silent,” the woman looked at Temene. “Are you these men’s mute servant? Do you not fear I will turn you into a mouse?”

“I am no one’s servant,” Temene glared at the woman. “And even if you are a witch, no spell exist to change the shape of an unwilling body.”

“So many believe,” the woman laughed. “Come, I will take you to my mother. I give you my word no harm will come to you.”

The party reluctantly followed the woman, Morrigan, further into the wilds. Alistair grew more nervous as the sun began to sink, but did not voice his concerns to the rest of the party. They finally reached a small hut that leaned against a crumbling stone tower. A wizened old woman stood by a small fire, tending a large pot.

"Our visitors have finally arrived," the old woman called to Morrigan. 

"You don't expect us to believe that you knew we were coming?" Daveth asked, with slight fear in his voice.

"And if I did, would it make you any less terrified of me?” the woman cackled. 

“We have come for the treaties you have stolen,” Alistair interjected.

“Stolen? I merely held onto them. After all, something so important shouldn’t be left to rot in a tower, am I right?”

“It was, yes, I suppose so,” Alistair sulked. The old woman pulled a stack of folded papers out of her apron and held them out to Alistair.

“Take them and unite the land under your banner. This Blight is worse than your betters could imagine.”

“What does that mean?” Jory asked nervously.

“It means good wardens are needed now more than ever before,” she replied.

"Thank you, whoever you are,” Alistair replied suspiciously, taking the treaties from her.

“You can call me Flemeth if you must. Morrigan shall escort you out of the wilds, you wouldn’t want to be caught out here at night,” she cackled again, returning to her stew pot.

The party eagerly left the strange old woman and followed Morrigan back towards Ostagar. The path she took was unfamiliar, but got them back faster than the way they had come. She disappeared shortly after the gates to the fortress appeared in the distance. 

“I think they were apostates,” Alistair remarked as they continued toward the gates. “I have half a mind to send some templars out to capture them.”

“Something tells me they would not easily be found,” Temene frowned.


	11. Duncan's Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan prepares to being the Joining for the new recruits.

Duncan waited impatiently for Alistair and the recruits to return. He could sense the darkspawn horde getting closer and was eager to complete the Joining. He could only pray to the Maker that all the recruits survived it. As the sun began to set, he thought about sending out scouts to search for them, worried they had run into a larger pocket of darkspawn. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the southern gates groaning open. He’d tried his best to keep dinner warm for them, but it was cold when they returned to camp.

They all ate ravenously and Alistair recounted their journey between bites. Duncan was surprised to hear about the witch, recalling Maric mentioning something about her in passing. He knew little of the famed Witches of the Wild, but knew they did not meddle in the affairs of other lightly. 

Temene seemed quieter than usual and he wondered how she had faired on her first excursion. He finally excused himself to prepare for the Joining, taking Alistair and the vials of darkspawn blood with him. 

“How did the recruits perform?” Duncan asked as they headed towards the mage’s tents to acquire the necessary lyrium for the ritual.

“They all fought well, I suppose,” Alistair replied. “Ser Jory was a little hesitant and Daveth fought like he’d never been part of a team before.”

“And Temene?” Duncan probed, noticing Alistair’s continued long glances at her during dinner.

“Uh, Temene?” Alistair blushed. “She was great. Very, great at mage-ing, er magic.”

Duncan laughed a little, reminded again of Maric and his long glances at Fiona while they were in the Deep Roads together. Duncab hoped for Temene’s sake that she was as strong as Fiona and would survive the Joining. He realized it had been a long while since he’d spoken to his former comrade and thought that he ought to write her another letter soon.

The white-haired mage that they met looked at them with slight suspicion when they asked for lyrium, but she understood that it was part of their ritual. Duncan prepared the remaining ingredients and sent Alistair off to retrieve the recruits, saying a silent prayer to the Maker as he mixed in the drop of archdemon blood.

Alistair returned with the three recruits in tow and Duncan let them know what their final initiation would be. They looked at him nervously, but it was to be expected. Drinking darkspawn blood was likely one of the worse things one could imagine. Duncan held the chalice out to Daveth first. He knew almost instantly that the taint would take his life. He saw a little of himself in Daveth and felt a pang of regret that he would not experience a similar redemption.

 

Duncan next turned his attention towards Ser Jory, who stood rigid with fear in his eyes. 

“No, I won’t do this,” Jory backed away, his voice trembling. “You ask too much.” 

“I am afraid there is no going back from this,” Duncan said grimly.

Jory went for his sword, fumbling to get it out of its sheath. It gave Duncan enough time to run him through with his dagger, pulled from its scabbard with lightning-quick reflex. He eased Jory’s limp body to the ground, keeping a tight grip on the Joining chalice with his other hand.

Temene stood frozen in shock, staring down at the dark pool of blood collecting under Jory’s body. As she began to back away, Alistair stopped her, gently resting a hand on the small of her back. 

“It will be alright,” Alistair said quietly as Duncan held the chalice towards her.

She hesitantly took the chalice from Duncan, as tears welled up in her eyes. She swallowed the blood with much difficulty and stumbled forward before falling back into Alistair’s arms. He gently set her down, looking up at Duncan to confirm she would be alright. Duncan nodded and said another silent prayer, thankful that they at least had a new sister in the order. Alistair carried Temene back to camp, while Duncan saw to the bodies of the two fallen recruits. 

When he returned to camp he found Alistair next to the fire, Temene’s head cradled in his lap. He’d covered her with a blanket and had pots of hot tea and stew boiling.

“I didn’t want to her to wake up alone in a dark tent. That scared me when I woke up,” Alistair said as Duncan approached the fire.

“That is very thoughtful of you. I am sure she will appreciate it.”

Duncan entered the tent, ready for the day to be over. He was not looking forward to the coming days of battle, but was glad to know the Wardens would be safe in the hands of the younger generation in time.


End file.
